Thank You, Dr Beckett
by Rachel D
Summary: Several months after returning home, while sick with the stomach flu, Sam meets some of the people he'd leaped into. A real blast from the past. COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

_**THANK YOU, DR. BECKETT**_

A/N: I was inspired to write this after reminiscing about watching _Good Morn-ing, Miss Dove_ when I was younger. Also, in the winter of 2008, my husband and I both got sick around the same time, and I blamed it on pork chops that had been in the freezer for about a week.

 **CHAPTER 1**

It was now December, and about a couple of weeks before Christmas. Sam had been home from leaping for about eight months now. In that time, not only had he gotten re-acquainted with his family, but he'd also learned quite a lot about them. His mother had died of natural causes in 2001, and on the night before 9/11. His brother and sister, Tom and Katie, were doing all right. Tom was living in Terre Haute, and after their mother's funeral, Katie's husband retired from the Air Force, and they moved from Hawaii to Oregon. They were also enjoying their grandchildren, and Tom was enjoying his new great-granddaughter. Sam had even attended his oldest granddaughter's high school graduation, and not only was she the class president, but also the valedictorian. In short, it had been one hell of a great eight months.

If only he could enjoy it.

Since he'd come home, he'd gotten a part-time volunteer job at the local prison, but his least favorite part was assisting with executions. And for safety and ethics reasons, he had to keep his medical background a secret. Oh, well, at least he could stay in his own time.

It was daybreak when Sam awoke with a strange feeling in his stomach. Could it be the week-old pork chops he and Donna had eaten the night before? No, that wasn't it. When they'd bought them, she'd used the Food-Saver to vacuum all the air out of the package so they'd stay fresh longer.

Sam rolled over and opened the top drawer on his nightstand, where he found the pills he'd been prescribed last spring. You see, when Sam came home from his last leap, he'd had a couple of seizures, and after two days of tests, was diagnosed with a condition similar to epilepsy. A mild one, mind you, but that—along with his age—was more than enough to convince him to retire. The pills he was prescribed worked wonders, even though they did take some setting used to. _Maybe that'll settle my stomach,_ Sam thought as he took a sip from his water bottle.

Whatever the reason, Sam knew that he couldn't just lie there. He jumped out of bed and stumbled, because he was starting to feel dizzy, across the hall to the bathroom, collapsed in front of the toilet, and the next thing he knew, everything came up.

"Sam?" Donna's voice called a minute later as she tentatively knocked on the bathroom door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door to find Sam lying on the floor beside the toilet, clutching his stomach, and shivering. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Oh, boy," Sam said as he sat up and puked another round into the toilet.

"Did you take your pill this morning?" Donna asked as she rubbed his shoulders and back.

"Yeah, and that's what came up first," Sam groaned as he laid back down and started coughing and shivering some more.

"It's okay, Sam," Donna said as she washed her hands before laying a hand on Sam's forehead. "You're burning up." She took the thermometer out of the cabinet, put it in Sam's mouth, moved his head onto her lap, and started stroking his hair. When she removed the thermometer, she saw that it registered at 102. "Would you like to go back to bed?"

"Can't I just sleep here?" Sam asked. Then, as if some unseen force was answering his question, he suddenly sat up and puked another round into the toilet.

"I wouldn't advise it, with your back being the way it is, so it's a good thing you're having surgery on it next month," Donna said as she helped Sam up and gave him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out. "But I can make you comfortable on the couch and put something beside you just in case, okay?"

Sam nodded as Donna helped him into the living room.

"You feeling okay?" Donna asked as Sam stumbled. Donna tightened her grip on his arm to keep him steady.

"Just a little dizzy," Sam answered as he regained his balance. That's when they arrived in the living room, and Donna sat him on the couch. As Sam laid down, Donna emptied the bedroom trash can in the kitchen trash and brought it to him. Next, she went to the bathroom for the thermometer, and laid it and a glass of apple juice on the coffee table beside him.

"Need anything else?"

"Not right now."

Sam took a sip of apple juice, then laid back and waited as Donna brushed his hair off his forehead. And to his surprise, it actually stayed down. Maybe because it wasn't a solid food.

After Donna dressed and had breakfast, she said, "Sam, I need to go to the store for a few things. I'm going to call Sammy Jo to see if she or one of the kids can come over. I don't want you to be alone."

Sam nodded as he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes, because he was starting to get a headache. Donna briefly stroked his hair, then went to the videophone in the next room. "Ziggy, dial Sammy Jo," she instructed. One of the things Sam had done soon after he got home was program Ziggy to act as a phone.

"Sammy Jo?" Donna said when she answered. "Hi, it's Donna."

"Hi! How are you feeling?" Sammy Jo asked.

"Well, I'm over the stomach flu, but I think your father has it now."

"Oh, dammit. So, it wasn't the pork chops, was it?"

"I'm afraid not. Listen, I need to run to the store. Could you or one of the kids come stay with him while I'm gone?"

"I can't. I have to get to work, but I can send Will over. He doesn't have class today, and isn't doing anything much."

"Great. Tell him I'll see him as soon as he can get here."

"You got it."

After Donna hung up, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and retrieve the bottle of Maalox from the medicine cabinet before returning to the living room. "Will is on his way over," she told Sam as she set the bottle on the coffee table.

"Great," Sam said, opening his eyes and clutching his stomach.

"Here," Donna said, handing him another pillow, which Sam hugged to his stomach. "Wow, that apple juice is staying down."

Sam nodded as he took the Maalox from Donna.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you last night: Al called after you went to bed, and told me that some of the people you've leaped into are coming to visit."

"Really? Who?"

"Well, I'm told there's a Ray Hutton..."

"He was the understudy for the lead in a touring production of _Man of La Mancha,"_ Sam recalled as he took a drink of Maalox, then more apple juice to cut the taste. He tried tossing the pillow back to the other end of the couch, but it fell to the floor. "I ended up going on after the regular actor took a drunken tumble—or, as Al called it, a Gerald Ford impersonation—down a flight of stairs."

"And he's bringing Nicole," Donna continued as she picked the pillow up and put it back in its place. "I understand that she was your former piano teacher."

"Yes. Anyone else?"

"Let's see...Billie Jean Crockett..."

"She was a pregnant teenager. I had to make sure that she didn't give her baby up for adoption, because she'd live to regreat it."

"I believe she's bringing her daughter with her. I understand her name is Samantha. And there's a Katie McBain coming..."

"She was a rape victim. I thought I'd be getting justice for her, but the only justice that ended up coming was when I beat up her alleged rapist."

"Wow!" Donna marveled. "I'll bet you really did a number on that sick bas-tard, huh?"

"I'll say," Sam agreed. "I literally beat him unconscious, too."

"And last, but not least, Dr. Rice's father and sister are coming for an early Christmas, and she said she'd bring them over."

"Oh, Dr. Rice," Sam sighed. "I was her father, Dr. Sherman Ryland, and I had to keep the family from getting killed when the oldest daughter witnessed her best friend's murder. Dr. Rice is our chief cardiologist at Project Quantum Leap, and her oldest sister took over their father's hypnotherapy practice after he retired. Well, that's what Al and Dr. Rice told me."

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Oh, that's Will now," Donna said as she got up and answered the door. "Hi, Will."

"Hi, Grandma," he answered. He was wearing a light blue button-down scrub top with frogs on it, as well as white scrub pants and tennis shoes, and had a red duffel bag with a picture of a white cross on it over his left shoulder. "I heard Granddad isn't feeling well."

"I think he's caught my stomach flu," Donna told him.

"Oh, boy," Will said as he set his bag on the floor beside the armchair. "I just got over it a couple of days ago, and now Abby's got it. And not only on her fifteenth birthday, but also on the day of her debate team finals. You know, just between us, I think she's more pissed than sick."

"Poor kid. I hope she feels better soon."

"Thanks. So do we. Laura's taking care of her, which is how I was able to come over here."

"You look like you're ready for work," Donna commented as Will hung his sweater on the back of the armchair.

"This is what I wear to my classes at the college," Will explained. "I figured that since I was playing nurse for Granddad today, I'd wear it."

"Makes sense," Donna nodded, taking her sweater and purse off the hall tree. "Oh, I took his temperature soon after I got up and found him puking in the bathroom, and it was 102. You might want to take it again before too long."

"Okay," Will said as he headed into the living room, where he found Sam lying on the couch with his eyes closed, his left arm across his stomach, and his right hand on his forehead. "Hi, Granddad."

"Hi, kid," Sam managed to say as he sat up. Will opened the side pouch on his bag, pulled out a little bottle of hand sanitizer, and rubbed some on his hands.

"I'll see you later, okay, Sam?" Donna said as she rubbed his arm and kissed his cheek.

"Okay," Sam answered.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked as he adjusted the pillow behind Sam's back, the blanket over his legs, and laid a hand on his forehead while Donna got her keys and went out the door.

"I've been better," Sam answered as he went into a coughing fit and clutch-ed his stomach. He reached for the trash can and leaned over it, but nothing came up. Will patted his grandfather's back as he put the can down on the floor beside him and leaned back against the pillow.

Will nodded. "Oh, I brought some homework to do for my nursing class while I'm here," he said.

"Oh, you did?" Sam asked as he took his hand off his forehead. "What is it?"

"During vacation, we're supposed to practice checking someone's vital signs," Will said as he rubbed more sanitizer on his hands. "May I?"

Nodding, Sam shifted his position on the couch as Will sat in the armchair and opened his bag.

After Will had finished, he put his stuff away and put the bag on the floor, then said, "Grandma tells me that your temperature was 102 this morning, and it's now 101. Your BP's also a little low. Any dizziness or numbness?"

"Only when I stand up too fast, and sometimes it happens when I just stand up. I noticed it soon after I came home from leaping."

"Does it happen very often?"

"Every once in a while."

"How about today?"

"Well, I felt dizzy while I was going to the bathroom to puke, and then again when Donna was helping me from there to here."

Will nodded. "You know, when I'm sick, one thing Mom does is play my favorite song."

After coughing a bit, Sam said, "That's perfect. I programmed Ziggy to do the same thing soon after I got home."

"Good. Ziggy, play my grandfather's favorite song."

"Yes, Master Pollan," Ziggy said, and within a few seconds, the first few notes of "Imagine" by John Lennon was blaring from the speakers.

"Hey, could you turn that down?" Sam asked, covering his ears and closing his eyes. "I'm starting to get a headache."

"Sorry," Will said as he picked up the remote and turned the volume down. "Is that better?"

"Much," Sam answered as he uncovered his ears and laid back. Within a few seconds, he was fast asleep.

 _That has the same effect on me when I'm sick,_ Will thought as he took the washcloth and wiped Sam's face, then let it lay across his forehead.

While Sam slept, Will grabbed the bottle of Tylenol from the bathroom and put it on the coffee table beside him, then patted Sam's face with the towel and laid a hand on his grandfather's forehead before he went to the kitchen to make some marble-rye toast and Earl Grey tea. He'd just woken up when Donna called, and hadn't had breakfast yet. _I don't think she'll mind,_ he thought as he put the toast on a plate and the kettle started whistling.

When he returned to the living room, Sam was just starting to wake up. Will took his grandfather's temperature before he said, "Want to try a little bite of toast to see if you can keep it down?"

"Sure," Sam answered. Will went to the kitchen for the piece of toast, broke it in half, and handed a piece to Sam, who took a very tentative nibble. "Um—Will? There's no butter on this."

"Remember what you and Grandma always said about butter and upset stomachs?"

"Point taken," Sam said as he took the washcloth and wiped his face. He started to lay it on the coffee table, but missed his mark, and it landed on the floor. Will picked it up and laid it on the coffee table.

"How about some tea?" Will suggested. "There's still some water left in the kettle."

"Sure. And could you add..."

"Half a teaspoon of honey," they both said at the same time.

"I know just how you like it," Will smiled. "And isn't it time for your meds, too?"

"I took them this morning, then turned around and puked them back up," Sam answered. "I think I could try again, just as long as taking two doses back-to-back doesn't make me sick or dizzy. Oh, and I don't really want the rest of this apple juice. Could I have some ginger ale along with the tea?"

"Sure," Will said as he took the apple juice into the kitchen, dumped it in the sink, and put the glass in the dishwasher.

A minute later, Will returned with the ginger ale and set it on the coffee table. "Thanks," Sam said.

"No problem. I'll go get your pills and your tea," Will said, patting Sam's shoulder. Just as soon as he got up, the doorbell rang. "Right after I answer the door." And he went to the front door and opened the little window on it. "Yeah?" he asked.

Standing on the front doorstep was a middle-aged slightly frumpy brunette with short wavy hair, light brown eyes, and red oval-shaped glasses. She had on a white turtleneck, tan jeans, white sneakers with black trim, and a wine-colored satin jacket with the USC logo monogrammed on the left breast. "Hi, is this Dr. Beckett's house?" she asked. And boy, was she pretty.

"Yes, but he's feeling a little under the weather right now," Will answered. "Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes. You see, I'm Katie McBain," the woman explained. "Well, that's my maiden name. My married name is DeYoung."

That's when it started to register with Will. A few weeks after he'd come home from leaping, Sam had told his grandchildren about some of the people he'd met and been, one of them having been named McBain. And now, here she was.

"Come on in," Will said, unlocking the door and opening it. "I'm sure my grandfather will be glad to meet you, even if he's not feeling so great."

"Thanks," Katie said as she stepped inside.

"Wait here," Will said as they entered the living room, where they found Sam's uneaten toast on the coffee table and him fast asleep on the couch. "Granddad?" Will said, gently shaking Sam's shoulder. "Wake up, you have a visitor."

Sam gave a soft snort as he opened his eyes to find Will and Katie standing at the foot of the couch. "Hi," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Katie asked. There was no mistaking the concern in her voice, and the last thing she wanted was to bother him when he wasn't feeling well.

"No, not at all. I'm actually starting to get a little strength back. Won't you sit down?" Sam asked, gesturing toward the armchair, as he tried to sit up. Will grabbed his arm and helped him into a sitting position, then adjusted the pillow behind his back.

"I know you probably don't remember me, or even know who I am, but I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Beckett," Katie began as she sat in the armchair and put her purse in her lap.

"You have?"

"Yes. You see, the thing is, I'm Katie McBain."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Upon hearing her say her name, the impact hit Sam like a ton of bricks. "Katie McBain? The rape victim?" he asked as he opened the bottle of Tylenol and took a couple of pills with a sip of ginger ale.

Katie nodded as tears filled her eyes. "In fact, I even got to testify at my own trial. I stood in something called the Imaging Chamber with Admiral Calavicci, and he held my hand so I could be heard."

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?" Will said gently.

"Well, the summer after I graduated from high school, I went on a date with a guy named Kevin Wentworth," Katie began, taking a deep breath. "It was a Friday night, and I was really excited, especially since it was my third date with him. That night, we went out to a nice, expensive restaurant called Au Petit Richard. After dinner, he asked if I wanted to go for a drive. I said no, because I had to work the next day, but he ignored me. He took me to a place called Ft. Cronkite, which is literally a make-out point for the young people in Mill Valley, California, my hometown. We parked the car and started kissing, but then, he—he started to get carried away. He tried to put his hand up my dress, but I told him I wasn't that kind of girl, and you know what he said?"

"What?"

Katie literally had to force the words out with what came next. "He said, 'The only difference between nice girls and bad girls is that bad girls help you'," he whispered. "When he started kissing and groping me again, I started crying, and he slapped me. After that, he hit me a few more times and pinned my arms behind me. Then came the rape, and after he hit me again, I stopped resisting, because I was afraid he'd kill me. After he was done, I got out of the car and ran as fast as I could and hitched a ride to the nearest hospital, where I was when Dr. Beckett leaped in. Kevin was found not guilty, because he'd been my date that night, and his family had also been pillars in the community."

"That son of a bitch," Will growled, clenching his fists to the point where his knuckles were turning white. And he was also wishing that he could've been there to pound this guy into the ground.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Sam said softly. "How have you been dealing with it?"

"When I started college, I majored in psychology, and became a victim's advocate, because I wanted to help other girls who have been through the same thing I was. And Libby—my sister—happens to be the receptionist at the shelter I work at."

"I've heard of that," Will said. "What exactly is in your job description?"

"Well, after a woman is raped, I'll meet with her to talk about it," Katie explained. "Sometimes, I'll go to the hospital with her—or meet her there, if she wants. After the exam is over and the evidence is collected, we make an appointment to file a police report, then the two of us go over it to make sure it's accur-ate before turning it in. Then, if the case isn't killed by a family member reading the report, I'll go to court with her."

"That's good," Sam said as he remembered first Al having him faint on the witness stand to create a diversion, then the conversation he'd had with Nancy Hudson, the DA, after Kevin was found not guilty. Nancy had disclosed that she was a victim herself, and every time the rapist was found not guilty, she had to relive her own ordeal all over again, because her rapist had gotten off. "You know, Ms. Hudson told me that she was a victim herself."

"Really?" Katie asked.

Sam nodded. "It happened in '68, and according to Al, the guy was never convicted."

"Al?" Katie repeated. After a minute, the name registered with her. "Oh, you mean Admiral Calavicci?"

"Yes, the Admiral," Sam said. "Did you see Nancy any more after that?"

"She was my mentor when I was going through college," Katie answered as she crossed her ankles.

"No kidding?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I'll go get your pill now, Granddad," Will said as he stood up and picked up the washcloth to re-wet it.

"Pill?" Katie asked, puzzled.

"Yes. You see, when I came home from leaping last spring, I had a couple of seizures that led to me being diagnosed with a condition similar to epilepsy," Sam told her. "I've been taking medication since then. I did have a couple of seizures while I was trying to get used to the meds, though."

Katie nodded. "How are you feeling now?" she asked.

"Well, I woke up with a stomach flu this morning, and I took a pill, only to have it come back up," Sam answered. "Will wants to try again."

"Okay."

"My wife should be back from the store any minute."

"Oh. Well, in that case, I should probably be on my way."

"No, no, it's okay," Sam urged. "I'm sure she'll be happy to meet you."

That's when Will returned with the pill and wet washcloth. He handed the pill to Sam, and laid the washcloth on the coffee table. Sam took the pill, along with the last sip of ginger ale, and this time, it stayed down. Will could see his grandfather's relieved and satisfied look as he took the empty glass to the kitchen to get him his tea.

Just then, Donna came in with two sacks of groceries. Will could tell that she was about to drop one, so he took it from her, and they went to the kitchen to put them away. Then he picked up the teacup, poured another glass of ginger ale, handed it to Donna, and the two of them returned to the living room.

After Donna set the glass of ginger ale on the coffee table, she brushed Sam's hair off his forehead before she turned and saw their visitor. "Hi," she said warmly, shaking Katie's hand, as Will adjusted the pillow and blanket covering his grandfather. "I'm Donna Eleese-Beckett, Sam's wife, but I generally go by my maiden name for professional reasons. And you are...?"

"Katie McBain-DeYoung," Katie answered as she stood up. "I was a rape victim that your husband leaped into. He thought he'd be getting justice for me, but after Kevin—you know, my rapist—was found not guilty, I leaped back in and found myself standing over Kevin's unconscious body, so your husband apparently beat the shit out of him."

"Yes, he's told me about that," Donna said as a hint of a smile crossed her face. "What have you been doing since then?"

"Well, for starters, I went to college at USC..."

"That's where our oldest granddaughter is majoring in astrogeophysics," Sam spoke up.

"Really? Sounds like an interesting career. Anyway, I got married the summer after I finished my junior year of college. After I graduated, I became a victim's advocate and got a job at a battered women's shelter in San Diego, where my sister happens to be the receptionist. My husband, who's the head janitor at one of the local high schools there, and I have three grown kids. Jim, our oldest, was named after my father, who died in '88. He's now twenty-six and married with a baby girl named Elizabeth, who's a month old today. Colleen, our daughter, was named after my mother, who died last year. She turned twenty-three last month, and has recently married. She and her husband are on their honeymoon in Atlantic City, but they plan to be home in time for Christmas. And Sam, our youngest, will be eighteen next week. He'll be majoring in music at UCLA next fall."

"Oh, where are my manners?" Donna asked as she put the thermometer in Sam's mouth. "I forgot to offer you a drink. Would you like something?"

"No, thanks, I can't stay long," Katie said as the doorbell rang, and Will went to answer it.

A minute later, Will appeared with Al behind him as the thermometer beeped and Donna removed it. "100.8," she read.

"Hi," Al said. When he saw Sam, he asked, "Hey, are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I woke up this morning with the stomach flu, which I think I caught from Donna," Sam croaked before he went into a coughing fit.

"Oh, do you remember this lady, Admiral?" Will asked, indicating Katie, as Donna offered Sam a sip of ginger ale.

"Should I?" Al asked.

"I'm Katie McBain-DeYoung," Katie answered as she adjusted her position in the chair. "When I first arrived in what you call the Waiting Room, I was lying on the table all curled up in the fetal position, because I was raped."

"Oh, yeah," Al remembered. "At your trial, we stood in the Imaging Chamber, and I held your hand so you could testify, because Dr. Beckett wanted to be able to hear you and repeat as much of your testimony as possible."

"That's right," Katie said. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for trying, Dr. Beckett."

"No problem, Katie," Sam smiled as he picked up the cup to take a sip of tea. "I'm glad I could help, and you're doing so much better now."

"Thanks. Well, I'm sorry to rush, but I have to pick up my Sam from swimming practice. He's training for the Special Olympics when they come to Phoenix next month."

"Good," Al said. "Tell him we're all rooting for him."

"Thanks," Katie said before she left.

"She seems like a nice lady," Donna commented after Katie had left. "And she sure was glad to meet you, Sam."

"I'm glad I got a chance to meet her, too," Sam said, taking a sip of tea and handing the cup to Will, who set it on the coffee table. "You know, I think this bug is starting to clear up. Well, maybe a little."

"How's your stomach, Granddad?" Will asked as he put an arm across his grandfather and started rubbing his back. "Do you think you're ready to eat something yet?"

Sam thought for a minute. "Well, maybe a popsicle," he decided. "I don't care what flavor, though."

"All right," Donna said as she headed to the kitchen and returned a minute later, opening a cherry-flavored one. "In addition to oranges, this is pretty much what I lived off when I was sick. And I hate oranges."

They got a good laugh, with Sam somehow managing not to choke on the last bite of popsicle, then he looked at the clock. "Well, it's almost lunchtime, but I'm not really hungry," he said as he handed the popsicle stick and wrapper to Will, who threw them in the trash can at the end of the couch before rubbing more sanitizer on his hands. "I think I'll take another nap, and see how I feel at dinner time."

"Okay," Will said as he helped his grandfather settle back on the couch and Donna stroked his hair. "I'm in no hurry to get home, so if you don't mind, Grandma, I'll just stay here for a while."

"Sure, that's fine," Donna said.

"I guess I might as well stay, too," Al said. "It'd save you more phone calls that way." Donna couldn't help smiling.

"Okay," Will said as Al went to the kitchen to make some coffee and Sam fell asleep. A few seconds later, Sam started shivering, and Will covered him with the blanket.

"He's burning up," Donna said, laying a hand on Sam's forehead before putting the thermometer back in his mouth. "Damn," she said when she removed it. "His fever's spiked to 103."

"It's been fluctuating between 101 and 102 all morning," Will told her.

"Oh, great," Donna grumbled as she urgently shook Sam's shoulder. "Sam?"

"You have the power, Alia. You can choose not to kill me," Sam murmured as he threw the blanket off.

"Alia?" Donna repeated.

"Granddad?" Will said as he picked up the washcloth and started wiping his face. "Wake up, you're dreaming. It's okay. Grandma and I are here. Whoever this Alia is, she can't hurt you now."

"Sam?" Donna repeated, stroking his hair and face. Then, to Will, she said, "Well, I'm going to start lunch. Let me know how he's feeling."

"Okay," Will said as he started wiping Sam's hands.

"What are you doing?" Donna asked.

"This is a trick that my nursing instructor taught our class for drawing the fever out of someone," Will answered as he started wiping Sam's neck and chest. "She says she saw it in some old movie."

"Good idea," Donna said. "We'll take his temperature again after lunch."

Will nodded as he started wiping his grandfather's feet. All the while, Sam was whimpering in pain, shivering, and mumbling incoherently about Alia, whoever she was. "Shh, it's all right, Granddad," Will said soothingly as he finished and put the washcloth on the coffee table, then patted Sam's shoulder. "You're safe at home, and no one can hurt you."

A few minutes later, Al, Donna, and Will sat down to lunch, each with an egg-salad sandwich on rye; Al with another cup of coffee, and the other two with eggnog.

As they were finishing, they heard Sam call, "Will? Donna? Al?"

The three of them jumped up from the table and went into the living room. "Yes?" Donna asked. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better," Sam answered as he sat up. Will quickly adjusted the pillow behind his back. "And I think my stomach has finally stopped jumping around, because the popsicle is staying down."

"That's good," Will said as he put the thermometer in Sam's mouth. When he removed it, he said, "Well, Granddad, your fever's almost gone, 99.8."

"That's good," Sam said as he folded his arms across his stomach. "I guess the worst is almost over."

Will nodded as the doorbell rang. Al went to the bathroom and Donna went to answer the door. "Yes?" she asked.

Standing on the doorstep was a tall, slightly heavyset black man who looked like he was in his mid-eighties. He had snowy white hair around the edges and none on top, a bushy white beard, and gold-rimmed bifocals. He was wearing a white dress shirt and brown slacks with a wine-colored cardigan sweater. He was also leaning on a cane. With him were two similarly-dressed middle-aged women who had the same almond-shaped eyes eyes, so Donna guessed they were his daughters. She recognized one of them as Dr. Janie Rice, the cardiologist who worked for Project Quantum Leap.

"Hi, Dr. Rice," she said. "Is this your father?"

"Yes," she answered. "Dr. Sherman Ryland."

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"Dad, remember? I told you about Dr. Beckett, and what he did?" Janie reminded him. "We're here to thank him."

"Come on in," Donna said. Then, to Will, she said, "Tell the Admiral that Dr. Rice and her family are here."

"Right," Will answered.

"I understand that Dr. Beckett woke up with the stomach flu," Dr. Rice said. "How is he feeling?"

"Well, he woke up puking, but as the day's worn on, he's been able to keep things down," Donna answered.

"That's good," Dr. Rice said.

"Sam?" Donna said as they entered the living room and saw him about ready to go back to sleep. "You have more visitors."

"Dr. Rice! Hi!" Sam exclaimed as he struggled to sit up. Donna grabbed his arm and helped him sit up as Will adjusted the pillow behind his back. "How's your daughter? NaDean, isn't it?"

"NaDean's doing great," Dr. Rice answered. "Her school just finished hold-ing auditions for _The Wiz._ How are you feeling?"

"Well, my fever's almost gone," Sam told them.

"That's good. Oh, this is my sister, Sherri, and our father, Dr. Sherman Ryland."

"Hi," Sam said as Sherri helped her father into the armchair. "I'm glad to meet you, sir."

"Hmm?" Sherman asked. Then he looked around the room. "Wait a minute, where is this?"

"Dr. Ryland, it's Dr. Beckett," Sam said. "Dr. Sam Beckett. Didn't your daughters tell you about me?"

"Oh, that's right," Sherman remembered. "You're the one that saved my Sherri's life after her friend was killed. I also understand that you put her under hypnosis to get her to tell you what happened that night."

"That's right," Sam answered. Then, turning to Sherri, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Dad's been showing the early signs of Alzheimer's," Sherri answered sadly, putting an arm around her father. "It started soon after Mom passed away about a year and a half ago. He was never the same after that. Even though he can recall past events as if they happened yesterday, he can't remember the family anymore."

"Anna?" Sherman called out, looking around in confusion. "Anna, where are you, baby? We've got to get going, or we'll miss NaDean's christening."

"Shh, it's okay, Dad," Dr. Rice said, taking his hand.

"But NaDean..."

"NaDean's fine. She told me to tell you she loves you."

"Besides no longer remembering us, the disorientation has gotten worse, too," Sherri explained. "After he gets to where he's going, he forgets all about it: where he is, why he's there, everything. In fact, as soon as we leave here, he won't remember meeting you."

"Disorientation". That was the one word that Sam knew all too well. With each leap, he would experience the same thing, until Al appeared to fill him in.

As happy as Sam was to meet Sherman, it was also a bittersweet moment, because this man would no longer remember how Sam helped him, or their meeting.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Al was coming in from the bathroom a few minutes after Dr. Rice and her family came in and sat down. "Hi," he said, taking a sip of coffee.

"Hi, Admiral," Dr. Rice answered. "Oh, this is my sister, Sherri, and my father, Dr. Sherman Ryland."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Al said, shaking the older man's hand. Then after a pause to look at Sherman, he asked, "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Not really," Sherman confessed. "My daughters tell me that you helped us a long time ago."

"All Dad can remember is what he used to do for a living, how to do it, and a few other things," Sherri spoke up.

"I see," Al said.

"You know, I vaguely recall meeting someone named Al in the ER when I went there after my friend was shot," Sherri said. Then it registered with her. "Was that _you?"_

Al nodded. "You see, I was a hologram standing in the Imaging Chamber so I could interact with Sam. The only other people who could see me were really little kids, animals, the mentally absent, and anyone else who was tuned into Sam's brainwaves."

"And me?" Sherri asked.

"And you," Al agreed. "That was the first time I was visible to teenage girls under extreme emotional stress."

"I have a son who'll be turning thirty next month. His real name's Albert, but we also call him Al," Sherri said.

"Wow, really?"

"Uh-huh."

"You know, it wasn't really your father who hypnotized you into telling what you knew about your friend's murder," Sam told her.

As soon as Sherri heard that, she looked at Sam in surprise. "That—that was you, too?"

Sam nodded as he took another Tylenol and a sip of tea before Will put the thermometer back in his mouth. Sherri put her hand to her heart and grabbed the back of the chair that Sherman was sitting in. Instinctively, Sherman hooked his cane over the left arm of the chair and took his daughter's hand in both of his. In spite of his condition, he still somehow knew what to do.

"Thank you so much," Sherri whispered, fighting the tears that were coming. It was obvious that she still had those memories of that horrific night.

"Are you okay, Sherri?" Donna asked as Will took the thermometer out of Sam's mouth, looked at it, and made the notes on his pad.

"Yes," Sherri managed to squeak out. Donna led her over to the far end of the couch so she could sit down.

"I'll get you some water, okay?" Dr. Rice told her sister. Sherri nodded, and Dr. Rice hurried to the kitchen.

"Tell me more about what happened," Sam said.

"Well," Sherri said as she pulled herself together and sat up taller on the couch, "on the day after we went to cabin, a deputy came out there after lunch, and told us that the real shooter had been arrested that morning, and it turned out to be the cousin of the guy I'd thought was the shooter—my friend's boyfriend. That night, the guy went to jail; my friend's boyfriend was released at the end of the holiday weekend, and the real killer was executed about four years later."

"That's good," Sam answered, taking a sip of ginger ale. "And you were free to go home?"

Sherman nodded. "Thanks for your help, whoever you are."

"Sam," Sam answered.

"How are you feeling now, Dr. Beckett?" Dr. Rice asked as she returned and handed her sister the glass of water. "If I had my equipment with me, I'd do a brief exam."

"I have mine," Will spoke up as he picked up his bag. "I brought it with me, because part of our holiday homework was to practice checking someone's vital signs."

"Okay," Dr. Rice agreed as Will handed her the bag and she got out what she needed. After finishing her exam, she said, "Well, Dr. Beckett, your BP's a little low, and I think I detected a slight murmur on the left side, so I'd like to see you at 11:00 tomorrow morning for an EKG, and I'll call my receptionist to pencil you in. Other than that, have you been feeling dizzy at any time today?"

While Dr. Rice was speaking, Will thought, _How could I have missed a heart murmur, unless Granddad developed it after I examined him?_

"Well, I did while I was going to the bathroom to puke this morning," Sam answered as he shifted his position on the couch, "and then again when Donna was helping me from there to here."

"Have you any other times?"

"And sometimes, I'll feel dizzy just by standing up."

"Mm-hm, I see," Dr. Rice answered.

As Sam looked at Sherman, another flashback came to him. He was standing across the street from Rinker's Diner, where Sherri and her friend had eaten dinner after leaving the party early, and he'd watched the young girl get shot.

"The party my friend and I went to that night was a dud, so we decided to get something to eat at Rinker's, then call it a night," Sherri explained, as if she were reading his mind.

"I see," Sam said just before he went into another violent coughing fit and clutched his chest.

"You sure you're okay?" Dr. Rice asked as she put the stethoscope back on and re-examined him.

Sam nodded. "I think so," he answered as the pain subsided.

"All right," Dr. Rice said. "But if the pain gets too severe, we may have to take you to the ER, which I hope doesn't happen."

"All right," Sam said as Donna put the thermometer in his mouth.

A minute later, Donna removed and looked at the thermometer. "Shit," she groaned. "His fever's gone up again."

"You okay?" Sherri asked.

"I woke up this morning with a stomach flu, and my temperature's been go-ing up and down all day, but I think the worst part's over," Sam answered.

"Okay," Dr. Rice said. Then she checked her watch and said, "Well, I think it's time for us to get out of here." She put the equipment back in the bag and handed it to Will as she stood up.

"Okay," Donna said.

"But before I go," Dr. Rice said as she pulled a little cloth bag out of her purse and unzipped it. "This is a portable EKG that I take with me whenever I make house calls. I want you to wear it until I see you tomorrow. It's also a precaution, since you told me that you sometimes feel dizzy just by standing, okay?" As she spoke, Sam unbuttoned his pajama top and Dr. Rice cleaned his chest with several alcohol wipes.

"All right," Sam said as Dr. Rice removed the stickers from the back of the leads and put them on his chest.

"If you should happen to go to the bathroom or something like that, I want you to either hold the little box or put it on the back of the toilet," Dr. Rice continued.

Sam nodded as Dr. Rice finished. "Okay, Donna, let's stand him up to clip this onto his belt," Dr. Rice instructed. The two women helped Sam to his feet and he held onto Donna's arm while Dr. Rice clipped the monitor to his belt. "You doing okay there, Dr. Beckett?"

"I think so," Sam answered as he tightened his grip on Donna's arm.

"And if he should happen to fall, check the leads and wires to make sure no-thing popped out," Dr. Rice added to the others.

"Okay," Will agreed as the two women helped Sam sit back down.

"Would any of you like a drink for the road?" Donna asked as Sam settled back on the couch. Will rubbed some sanitizer on his hands before brushing Sam's hair out of his eyes, offering him a sip of ginger ale, and patting his shoulder.

"It's Tuesday," Sherman said to no one in particular.

"No, thanks," Sherri answered, checking her watch, as Dr. Rice checked to make sure the leads and wires on Sam's chest were secured. "In fact, we need to get Dad back to the home in twenty minutes."

Normally, the idea of going back to a nursing home was something anyone Sherman's age would dread. "It's Tuesday," he repeated. "Salisbury steak night with tapioca pudding. And this afternoon, it's bingo." From the tone of his voice, he actually sounded glad to be going back.

"That's right," Sherri said as she took her father's arm and helped him up. "It's your favorite."

"The staff does bingo with the residents every Tuesday," Dr. Rice explained, "and they also have Salisbury steak, which happens to be one of Dad's favorites. They have a different kind of pudding each week, but Dad's favorite is tapioca."

"Oh, I see," Sam said, trying to hide the fact that he hated tapioca pudding.

"Well, see you later, Dr. Beckett," Dr. Rice said, patting his shoulder before taking her father's arm. "And don't worry, Donna, we'll see ourselves out."

"All right," Donna said. Then, to Al, she said as Dr. Rice and her sister led their father out the door, "Well, now all we need to hear from are Billie Jean Crockett and Ray Hutton."

"Yup," Al said.

"How's your chest pain, Sam?" Donna asked as she rested her hand on his arm.

"I'm okay now," Sam said as he relaxed.

"Good."

"I think I'll try to take a nap," Sam said as he laid back and Will adjusted the blankets.

"Okay."

"Admiral, can I talk to you for a minute?" Will asked as Sam drifted off to sleep and Donna put the thermometer in his mouth.

"Sure," Al said.

The two of them stepped into the dining room before Will said, "Admiral, I have a question, and you just might be the one to answer it."

"Shoot," Al said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Well," Will said, rubbing more sanitizer on his hands, "when Granddad was running a really high fever before lunch, I was cooling him down when he started babbling incoherently about someone named Alia. Would you happen to know who that is, by any chance?"

"Alia was another leaper," Al explained. "She worked for something called Project Chronos, and her mission was to do the opposite of what your grandfather did. Your grandfather's mission was to put things right that once went wrong, and Alia's mission was to..."

"Screw everything up again?" Will suggested.

"Yes," Al said. "We first met her when Sam leaped into this guy named Jimmy, who had Down's syndrome, and Alia had leaped into Jimmy's sister-in-law. That was when she tried to kill him after they revealed their true identities to each other through physical contact. After that, we didn't see her again until Sam leaped into this college student who was masquerading as a superhero. With that leap, Sam took her with him, and they leaped into a women's prison, with their mission being trying to figure out who murdered a fellow inmate. Alia was afraid that the people at her project would find her, so I suggested your grandfather use hypnosis on her in an attempt to hide her location, but it didn't last long. That leap was what reformed Alia, and she disappeared after that. She had a hologram named Zoey, and when Sam and Alia leaped together, Zoey was furious with Alia for not killing him, so she became a leaper, and her hologram's name was Thames."

"Wha...?" they heard Sam say from the next room as he was waking up.

"I see," Will said. "Thanks for clearing that up."

"No problem, _ragazzo."_

"How are you feeling, Granddad?" Will asked as he returned to the living room and laid a hand on Sam's forehead. "I think your fever's gone up again."

"It was almost 103 when I checked it just now," Donna said.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Sam said as he sat up.

"Careful, Granddad," Will said as Sam sat on the edge of the couch and started to stand.

Ignoring his grandson, Sam stood up—too fast, as he sometimes tended to do—and immediately collapsed as Donna screamed his name.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Granddad!" Will cried. In no time flat, he was kneeling beside his grandfather and picking up his wrist to feel for a pulse as Donna checked the portable EKG.

"All the wires and leads are intact," she reported.

"Good," Will said. Then, shaking his grandfather's shoulder, he asked anxiously, "Granddad? You okay?"

"Here," Al said, grabbing a pillow off the couch. Will put the pillow under Sam's head and checked his pulse again. "How is he?"

"His pulse is very faint and rapid," Will reported as he gently laid Sam's arm across his chest, then after using his penlight to look at Sam's eyes, he leaned over and looked at the EKG, "and his heart rate's slowing down, but he's still breathing and his heart's still beating."

Just then, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Donna said as she got up, even though part of her was worried about what was happening with Sam.

Donna ran to the front door and opened it to find Sammy Jo standing there. "What are you doing home so early?" Donna asked in surprise.

"We didn't have many surgeries today," Sammy Jo explained as she hung up her purse and took off her sweater. "And besides, I not only told the surgeons I had a sick child at home, but I was also worried about Dad. I just checked in with the girls, and Laura says that Abby's feeling a little better."

"Well, that's good."

"Mm-hm. How's Dad?"

"Well, when Dr. Rice and her family were here, she examined him, and he not only had mild chest pain while coughing, but she also detected a slight murmur on exam, so she put him on a portable EKG, and wants to see him at 11:00 tomorrow morning," Donna answered. "After she and her family left, he said that he had to go to the bathroom, and when he stood up, he fell."

"Oh, dear God," Sammy Jo murmured as she hurriedly hung her sweater on the hall tree and dashed into the living room, where she found Will checking Sam's blood pressure and her father trembling and whimpering on the floor as Al patted his shoulder and talked to him a calm, reassuring voice. Right away, she had a very bad feeling. "Dad?!"

"Sam?" Donna added a few seconds later, rubbing his back as Al moved to the armchair, as Will finished and left the blood pressure cuff around Sam's arm.

"W—Will?" Sam asked as his eyes popped open.

"Yes, Granddad?" Will said gently as he bent over his grandfather.

"Some—something's..." Before Sam could finish his sentence, his eyes rolled back, he was gasping for breath, and his whole body was stiff and shaking uncontrollably.

"Will, call Dr. Benitez!" his mother ordered as she knelt beside Sam's head. "Donna, let's roll him!" As Will ran to the phone, he heard his mother saying, "Okay, I've got his head, and let's roll him carefully onto his side." After they did, Donna checked the leads and wires.

"His heart rate's accelerating," Al reported, glancing at the monitor.

Will called Dr. Benitez and explained the situation. "Okay," the doctor said. "Time the seizure, and if it's longer than five minutes, call me back, and I'll send an ambulance around."

"Okay," Will said. Then as he hung up the phone, he called out, "Hey, Mom, how long now?"

"About two minutes," Sammy Jo answered as Sam's seizure started to slow down. "Dad? It's okay. You're just having a seizure, and it's almost over." A few seconds later, the seizure stopped, and Sam fell asleep as Will checked the monitors. "Okay, seizure's over."

"Granddad?" Will said as he stroked Sam's face and paused to feel his fore-head, and checked the blood pressure monitor, then he reported, "He's hypertensive."

"Dad?" Sammy Jo repeated.

"Granddad?" Will repeated as he put the blood pressure cuff away before he and Donna took Sam's hands. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand. And Grandma's on the other side."

There was no response. "Granddad?" Will repeated. Then, to Al, he said, "Okay, let's move him very carefully."

They moved Sam onto the couch, under Sammy Jo's direction and guidance, and Will checked the EKG leads, took Sam's temperature, and rubbed his back. "Everything's going to be all right now, Granddad. Just take your time waking up," he said.

"Sam?" Donna said as his eyes fluttered and she knelt by his head and star-ted stroking his hair and face. Sammy Jo took her penlight out of her pocket and examined Sam's eyes, then checked inside his mouth to see if he'd bitten his tongue or cheek. Will took the oxygen mask out of his bag and put it over Sam's face, then looked at the EKG as he mother finished her exam. "It's Donna. Can you hear me, honey? You just had a seizure, but you're okay now. Do you know where you are?"

"I—I'm in Ha—Havenwell Hospital, Penn—Pennsylvania, and it's Octo—Octo-ber 3, 1954. Please don't—don't give me ano—another shock treat—treatment, I—I'll be good," Sam slurred, his eyes half-open and unfocused, and his head listing from side to side as Donna gently mopped his forehead with the washcloth.

"Shh," she whispered gently as she patted his face with the washcloth and Will checked his blood pressure again. "Still hypertensive, but his BP should eventually come down."

Will looked at the portable EKG while Sam was speaking. Then he said gently as he laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, "Granddad, it's okay. Nobody's giving you any shock treatment. You need to calm down before you give yourself a panic attack, and we don't want to have to see Dr. Rice until your appointment tomorrow. Just take some slow, deep breaths and you'll be okay."

"How's his heart rate and pressure?" Sammy Jo asked.

"Heart rate's slowing down to a normal rhythm, and his pressure's dropping into the normal range."

"Sam?" Donna repeated as she took his hand and resumed stroking his hair and face. "It's okay now. You're at home, and you're safe. It's about a couple of weeks before Christmas in 2016." She released his hand and checked him over to see if he was hurt or had an accident, then she raised him into a sitting position and put her arm around him, she said, "Will, he's still pretty disoriented, so you might want to call Dr. Benitez back."

"And tell him Dad's pupils are uneven and sluggish," Sammy Jo added as she put her penlight away, stroked his hair, and laid a hand on his forehead.

"Right," Will said as he headed to the phone.

"Havenwell Hospital was where he leaped into a mental patient," Al explained. "His mission was supposed to be teaching one of the residents to read so he didn't end up on the streets when he got out, but the electroshock Sam was getting when he arrived scrambled his brain to the point where he was going from one personality to another, and we were losing contact, so he had to have another treatment to leap."

"I see," Donna said as Sam grabbed her arm and buried his face into her shoulder, all the while mumbling about not wanting another shock treatment. Donna rubbed his back, held him by the shoulders, and cupped his chin in her hand. "Look at me, Sam, honey; it's okay. You're at home, you're safe, and nobody's going to hurt you. You hear me?"

Sam nodded and relaxed. He released Donna's arm and fell back against the pillow. Almost immediately, he fell asleep again. Sammy Jo stroked his hair, then picked up his wrist to check his pulse.

When Will made his report to the doctor, Dr. Benitez said, "All right, I'm on my way. In the meantime, keep an eye on him, and let me know if he has another seizure."

"Yes, sir. And I know what to do if that happens."

"All right. I'll be there as soon as I can. 'Bye."

A minute later, the doorbell rang. "Damn, that sure was fast," Will commented as he went to answer it.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by two older women. One looked like she was as old as his grandparents, if not a little younger, had short dark curly hair, and was wearing a white turtleneck and jeans. The other looked about fifteen or twenty years older with shoulder-length white hair that was pulled back with a blue bow, and was wearing a white blouse and dark blue slacks. Both were also wearing matching blue coats.

"Are you here to see my grandfather?" Will asked, trying to hide his disappointment that it wasn't Dr. Benitez who had arrived.

"Dr. Beckett?" the older woman asked.

Upon hearing the voices in the next room, Sammy Jo gently shook her father's shoulder and said, "Dad? Wake up, Dad. It sounds like you've got more visitors."

"I'm sorry, but my grandfather has just had a seizure, and his doctor's on the way over," Will told the women as he took their jackets and hung them up. "You can see him, but just for a minute."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the older woman said as she took her purse off her shoulder. "By the way, I'm Billie Jean Crockett-Cooper, and this is my daughter, Samantha."

"Hi," Will said. "I'm Will Pollan, Dr. Beckett's grandson. He's sleeping off the seizure, and he's still pretty out of it, so he may not respond to you."

"That's all right," Samantha said as they headed into the living room, where Will removed the oxygen mask and put it in his bag, brushed Sam's hair off his forehead, then picked up his wrist to check his pulse. "I'm a nurse, so I'm used to it."

"Really?" Will asked as Sammy Jo gently rubbed Sam's arm. "I'm studying to be a nurse! I'm supposed to be a senior in high school, but was granted an early entrance to college, and building on my nursing studies."

"Really?" Samantha asked. "Do you need help with anything? I also teach nursing at the community college in Claremore."

"Well," Will said, "part of our holiday homework was to practice checking someone's vital signs, but part of our extra-credit homework is to draw blood samples from five people."

"Okay," Samantha said. "Did you want to try your grandfather first? I can supervise."

"Sure," Will said as he opened his bag and dug out the little school-supply box that the equipment was in. Billie Jean sat in the rocking chair and Samantha sat in the recliner beside the couch.

"Oh, this is Billie Jean Crockett-Cooper, and her daughter, Samantha," Will told the others. Then, as he tied the little tourniquet around Sam's upper arm and put on his gloves, he said, "Granddad? It's okay. I'm just going to draw some blood."

As Will took the blood sample, under Samantha's supervision and occasional prompting, as she stroked Sam's hair and spoke to him in a low, soothing voice, he never stirred, not even when the needle poked his arm.

"Hi," Sammy Jo said as they finished, and Will put a piece of tape on the blood sample vial and labeled it with Sam's name. "I'm sorry my father badly timed his seizure."

"That's not a problem," Samantha said.

"I'm Samantha Pollan, Dr. Beckett's daughter," Sammy Jo said, "but everyone calls me Sammy Jo."

"Must be a popular trend," Al commented.

"What do you mean?" Samantha asked.

"Whenever Sam has leaped into someone, sometime after he leaps out, if that person has a child, they name him or her Sam or Samantha," he explained.

"Except Dr. Rice's sister," Donna reminded him.

"Right," Al agreed. "That's the only one named Al that I know of."

Just then, Sam's eyes fluttered. "Dad?" Sammy Jo said as she rubbed his arm and shoulder. "Wake up, you've got more visitors."

"Dr. Beckett?" Billie Jean added, touching his arm. "I'm Billie Jean Crockett-Cooper. You leaped into me to make sure I didn't give my daughter up for adoption."

"Granddad?" Will said, taking his grandfather's hand. "Squeeze my hand."

Sam slowly opened his eyes and squeezed Will's hand before he glanced over and saw the women bending over him. "Hi," he managed to say.

"Do you remember my name?" Billie Jean as she laid a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Billie Jean?" Sam asked as Will laid a hand on his forehead and put the thermometer in his mouth. That's when another flashback came to him: he was walking down the road, after having talked to Willis, Billie Jean's boyfriend, about helping raise the child, only to be given the brush-off before going into labor, then having to help Dottie change the tire on the car before they could go to the hospital.

"That's right," she smiled, taking Sam's hand, as Will took the thermometer out of his mouth and made the notes on his pad. "After Samantha was born, Daddy and Dottie were married, and helped me raise her. I worked part-time for Dottie in the beauty shop while I finished high school, then took it over when she retired. Daddy passed away when Samantha was twelve—the same age I'd been when my own mother passed away—and Dottie passed away in the summer of '89. Anyway, Effy, who had been our shop assistant at the time Samantha was born, and her daughter took over the beauty shop when I retired about ten years ago."

"How's his temp?" Samantha asked Will.

"Steady at 102," he answered as he stroked Sam's hair.

"That's good," Sam said as he tried to get up. "Am I dreaming, or are you really here?"

Samantha smiled. "We're really here, Sam," she said, patting his hand. "Mama wanted to come thank you personally for helping us."

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Will went to answer it.

"I think that's our cue to get out of here," Samantha said, patting Sam's hand, as she stood up, then grabbed her mother's arm.

"Thanks for stopping by," Sammy Jo said.

"No problem," Billie Jean answered as Samantha helped her with her sweat-er. Then she grabbed her daughter's arm. "And thanks again, Dr. Beckett."

"I'm glad I could help," Sam said as he rolled over and puked into the trash can for what seemed like the millionth time. Donna rubbed his back and wiped around his mouth with a tissue, then offered him a sip of ginger ale before she took the can to clean it out.

"I'll see you ladies out," Will said as he handed Samantha her coat. Sam laid back on the couch and Donna put the thermometer in his mouth.

"Thanks, kid," Samantha said as she put on her coat, handed Billie Jean her purse, and ran her hand down Sam's face before leading her mother toward the door.

"No problem," Will answered as he opened the door.

As Will watched them walk down the steps, with Samantha leading her mother just as the doctor was coming in, he was hoping they'd get some much-needed answers.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is the last chapter.

 **CHAPTER 5**

As Will was returning from seeing Billie Jean and her daughter out, with Al and Dr. Benitez behind him, the thermometer beeped. "His temp's only dropped half a degree," he reported as he wrote it down.

"How are you feeling, Dad?" Sammy Jo asked, taking his hand and stroking his hair as Will rubbed more sanitizer on his hands.

"Tired, sore, and I have a headache," Sam answered as Sammy Jo brushed his hair off his forehead.

Sammy Jo sighed as she opened the bottle of Tylenol, got out a couple, and handed them to him, then held the glass so he could take a sip of ginger ale.

"Thanks," Sam said as he laid back, and Will mopped his forehead with the wet washcloth.

"Dr. Beckett?" Dr. Benitez said as he came into the living room, set his bag down, took his penlight out of his pocket, and turned it on. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay, and look at the light...Good." After turning the light off and putting it back in his pocket, he held out his hands with his index and middle fingers extended. "Now, squeeze my fingers...Good. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I just told Will and Donna that I had to go to the bathroom, and the next thing I knew, I felt myself falling to the floor, and when I woke up, I was here on the couch."

"Follow my finger with your eyes," Dr. Benitez instructed. "Good...Did you hit your head when you fell?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so."

"No, he didn't," Donna answered. "He just fell to the floor."

"You're not aware that you had a seizure?" Dr. Benitez asked as he pulled out a portable EEG machine and started to glue the electrodes to Sam's head.

Sam shook his head again as Dr. Benitez finished and set up his laptop to take the recording.

Then the testing began. First, Dr. Benitez had Sam hyperventilate for a minute to see if a seizure could be induced. When nothing happened, the next test involved Will flashing a strobe light in Sam's face with his eyes closed. The last test involved Sam taking a short nap. After the tests were finished, Dr. Benitez unhooked the wires and electrodes from Sam's head and Donna wiped the glue off his forehead and brushed out his hair.

"Well, everything seems normal," the doctor told them. "Since I'm told you see Dr. Rice at 11:00 tomorrow morning, I'd like to see you at 9:00. In fact, I'll call my receptionist on the way back to my office to pencil you in—since I had a cancellation, and I want you to have some blood drawn before you come."

"I did that for part of my extra-credit homework," Will spoke up, pointing to the spot on Sam's arm where he'd drawn blood earlier.

"Looks good, kid," Dr. Benitez said as he finished inspecting it. "You did a good job."

"Thanks," Will smiled.

"Okay, let's get him up slowly and carefully," Dr. Benitez instructed. He crossed the room and stood in the dining room doorway, as Will and Donna helped Sam up. "Now, walk toward me, Dr. Beckett."

Sam slowly made his way toward the doctor, stumbling only once. "Careful, Granddad," Will said, reaching out his hand to assist.

"You okay?" Dr. Benitez asked, grabbing Sam's arm in an attempt to steady him. Then Sam turned around and headed back to the couch, with Will walking beside him again, hesitating only once when he started to wobble. This time, it was Will who grabbed his arm. When Sam returned to the couch, Will helped him sit, then Sam laid down again as Will mopped his forehead with the wet washcloth. "Did you take your meds today?"

"I took them this morning," Sam answered as Will offered him the last sip of tea and handed the cup to Donna. Will wiped Sam's forehead again as Donna took the cup to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later. "But they came back up. Will gave me another dose later in the morning, and—well, I guess you know the rest."

"I guess so," Dr. Benitez nodded. "Have you had any seizures at all since we first put you on the meds? Other than when you were trying to get used to them, that is?"

Sam thought for a minute. "Actually, no," he said. "In fact, this is the first one I've had in months."

"I see," the doctor said as he pricked Sam's finger to check his blood sugar, then put the strip in the tester and a Band-Aid around Sam's finger. "Well, your blood sugar's a little low. Have you eaten anything today?"

"Just a little bite of toast to start this morning, and then sometime after that, I had a popsicle, because I wasn't sure if my stomach could handle any solid food."

"I see," the doctor said. "Well, we can rule that out."

"It was catching Donna's stomach flu that did it, wasn't it?" Sam asked, shifting his position on the couch.

"It looks that way to me. A lot of times, that can happen, even if you've taken the necessary precautions," the doctor said as he put his EEG equipment away, then put on his stethoscope and the end on Sam's chest, working around the electrodes.

"Well, I detected the same left-side murmur that Dr. Rice did, so it's a good thing you're having the EKG tomorrow," Dr. Benitez said as he put his stethoscope away. "In fact, when I leave here, I'll call Dr. Rice's office and ask them to fax me a copy of the test results. Also, since you haven't had a seizure in the last few months, mostly because you've been keeping up with your meds, it's not necessary to admit you to the hospital. However, like I said, I want you to be at the hospital tomorrow at 6 a.m. for an MRI at 7:00. In fact, when I call Dr. Rice, I'll ask her to meet you before your scan to pick up her EKG machine, and I'll also report your seizure. I also want you to have some blood drawn before I see you. In the meantime," he added to the others, "you are all to watch him, and if he gets up, follow him to make sure he doesn't fall, and give him whatever assistance he requires. If it looks like he's getting ready to have another seizure, or he actually does, call an ambulance right away, and get him to the ER."

"We will," Sammy Jo promised as the doctor closed his bag and set it on the armchair. "And thanks so much. If Dad can make it through the rest of the day without falling or seizing, I owe you a steak."

"Thanks, Dr. Pollan, but I'm a vegetarian," Dr. Benitez laughed as he picked up his bag and left.

Will watched as the doctor pulled out of the driveway at the same moment another car was pulling in. A man and woman who looked like they were in their early seventies got out of the car. _That must be Ray and Nicole,_ he thought.

A minute later, the doorbell rang. When Will opened it, he said, "Are you Ray Hutton?" The man was wearing a red flannel shirt over a white T-shirt and jeans, and the woman was wearing a blue blouse and black knee-length skirt.

"That's right," Ray said as they stepped inside. "And this is Nicole."

"Are you Sam's grandson?" Nicole asked as they took off their jackets and handed them to Will to hang up.

"Mm-hm," Will answered. "My grandfather has been sick with a stomach flu all day, and he had a seizure about an hour ago. In fact, his neurologist was just leaving as you were pulling in."

"Oh, no," Nicole said sadly. "Is he all right?"

"He's feeling a little better, but I wouldn't stay too long. He was also disoriented for a little while after the seizure, but I think he's recovering from that now."

"Okay."

When Will came in with Ray and Nicole, Sam had just fallen asleep. Sammy Jo shook his shoulder and said, "Hey, Dad, guess who's here?"

"Huh?" Sam asked as he opened his eyes. Then, looking at his visitors, he sat up and motioned for them to come closer as Donna adjusted the pillow behind his back. Nicole eased herself into the chair while Ray knelt beside the couch.

"Don't you know me?" Nicole asked.

"Should I?" Sam asked.

"I'm Nicole."

The instant Sam heard that name, all those memories came flooding back—mainly those of all the crazy things he did to try to get her to notice him.

One moment in particular happened when he was a sophomore in high school. It was two days before Valentine's Day, and Sam had spent a pretty good amount of his allowance on a big heart-shaped box of candy. When the big day finally arrived, he put on a splash of his brother's cologne—okay, he practically used the whole bottle—got the candy from the back of the freezer in the barn, and hurried over to Nicole's apartment. Unfortunately, the door was answered not by Nicole, but by her boyfriend at the time, who was visiting from Wisconsin. Sam thought for sure that this guy would've assumed that he was trying to score with his girl, and use him as his own personal toothpick. To his surprise, however, the guy offered to give her the candy himself. Sam very quietly thanked him, and then ran away in humiliation. On the upside, the guy was nice enough to take it off Sam's hands, so he wouldn't have to throw it over the highway bridge.

Okay, back to the present. "I'm sorry," Sam apologized as tears came to his eyes. "I've been sick all day, and confused by past shadows these last eight months. I'm not sure if I remember you anymore."

"It's okay," Nicole reassured him as she took his hand and rubbed his back. "You were one of my best piano students."

"Granddad?" Will asked as he held the box of tissues for him.

"Thanks," Sam said as he took one and started dabbing at his eyes.

"It's all so overwhelming, I know," Donna said. Sam nodded.

"I'll be okay in a minute," Sam whispered as he balled up the tissue and finished dabbing at his eyes. Nicole gave the others a questioning look.

"Ever since my father came home from leaping, he's had these bouts of depression," Sammy Jo explained.

"I see," Nicole said.

"I do remember having a piano teacher named Nicole, but she was much younger," Sam said, pulling himself together before going into a violent coughing fit and clutching his chest. Nicole tightened her grip on his hand and rubbed his back.

"Granddad?" Will asked as he reached for his bag.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Sam said. Then, looking at Nicole again, something clicked inside him, and he had the world's biggest smile on his face.

"Nicole! Hi!" Sam exclaimed as he tried to get up, which, predictably, led to another cough.

"Take it easy, Granddad," Will said as he and Donna grabbed Sam's arms and helped him lie back. Will adjusted the pillow behind Sam, and looked at the EKG.

At that moment, another flashback came to Sam: besides his reunion backstage with Nicole at the theater in Syracuse after a performance of _Man of La Mancha,_ they also performed together as Dulcinea and Don Quixote, which was when he told Nicole that he loved her during the final moments of the show when Quixote is dying. "What have you been up to?"

"Well, after we left Julliard, I went back to teaching piano for a while, but Ray was really busy with touring and performing," Nicole began. "In fact, in the spring of '79, I decided to answer an ad for an open audition for Dulcinea in _Man of La Mancha,_ and was cast as the understudy. After about a month or so, when the show was opening in Ft. Lauderdale, Ray and I were promoted to the principal actors as Don Quixote and Dulcinea. We stayed with the show until Thanksgiving that year. When the show ended its run in Toledo, we stayed behind to get married, then nine months later, I gave birth to our son, who's also named Sam, but his full name is Samuel Ray Hutton."

"Like I said, must be a popular trend," Al commented.

"You mean, every time Sam has leaped into someone, and they later have a child, they name it Sam or Samantha?" Nicole guessed.

"That's right," Al answered.

"In fact, my full name is Samantha Josephine, but I've always been called Sammy Jo," Sammy Jo explained.

"I see," Ray said.

Sam smiled as he took another sip of ginger ale. Then he paused and said, "Yup, still staying down."

"That's good to know," Ray commented. "Anyway, like Nicole said, our son was born in September of '80, and he's an actor, too. He made his acting debut as the White Rabbit in his second-grade class production of _Alice in Wonderland_ before he made his professional debut as the title character in a touring production of _Oliver!_ when he was ten, and I traveled with him for about seven months. Unfortunately, when the tour was in Montreal, he developed bronchitis, and was also told that he'd 'outgrown' the part, so he came home to be a regular kid, acting in high school plays and musicals. He didn't go out on the road again until the day after his high school graduation, when he auditioned for _Grease,_ and was cast as Doody—which makes perfect sense, since I'd started giving him guitar lessons when he was eight. Nowadays, he's married to a woman named Becky, and they're part of a touring production of _Les Misérables._ He's playing Jean Valjean, and she's playing Fantine."

"Wow," Sam said. "Any grandchildren in your future?"

"Yes, in July. They're planning to stay with the show until Christmas, then settle down somewhere outside Santa Fe. As far as we know, she's having twins," Ray answered.

"That's great," Sammy Jo said.

"And coincidentally, during our Sam's senior year of high school, the Drama Club did _Man of La Mancha,_ and Sam followed in his father's footsteps and played Don Quixote," Nicole added.

"Wow," Will said. "Did either of you see the movie?"

"I'm afraid so," Nicole said, a touch of chagrin in her voice. "Don't get me wrong, Peter O'Toole was a great actor, but that and _Supergirl_ were two of his worst movies."

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Donna asked as Sam very softly started singing "Dulcinea" _._ Nicole smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Oh, before I forget," Sam said as he switched to a sitting position, then put a hand on Nicole's shoulder and one on Ray's shoulder. "And I hope I can get through this without resorting to saying 'blah, blah, blah', but Nicole, when you were my piano teacher as a teenager, I had a crush on you, and you would never believe all the crazy stuff I did to get you to notice me."

"Aww..." Nicole said.

"I'll bet she thought you were cute," Ray added.

"I did," Sam told him.

"A drink?" Donna repeated.

"No, thanks, we promised we wouldn't stay long," Ray told her, checking his watch.

"All right," Donna agreed as she laid a hand on Sam's forehead and put the thermometer in his mouth.

A minute later, when she removed and looked at the thermometer, she said, "I think his fever's broken."

"Wonderful," Nicole said, patting Sam's hand.

As Sam laid back against the pillow and fell asleep with Nicole brushing his hair off his forehead, a million thoughts went through his head. He was remembering the leap where he'd leaped into a mining town on the day he was born, and how all the bar patrons looked and reminded him of people he'd met and been on previous leaps, and a bartender named Al. The bartender—who turned out to be God, Fate, or Time, or whatever else had been leaping him around—had told him that he'd already touched so many lives, and those lives had touched even others, kind of like the pay-it-forward effect. He was glad to have personally met some of the people whose lives he'd touched, and for now, that was all that mattered.

 **THE END**


End file.
